Children of Time, Minisode 2: Never Too Late
by Wholmes Productions
Summary: On the Holmeses' wedding night, something is in the air... and for once, it's not the TARDIS. Follow-on #1 from 'Together Or Not At All' / 'A Study in Family'.
1. I'll Walk Beside You

**==Chapter 1==**

 **I'll Walk Beside You**

 _In this world, there are things you can only do alone, and things you can only do with somebody else. It's important to combine the two in just the right amount._

– Haruki Murakami, After Dark

The Doctor was beginning to tire of repairing the TARDIS, and, truth to tell, the TARDIS was tiring of his repairing her. The problem was, what to do? Holmes and Beth were having their wedding night in 221B, Nikola and George were looking after Kathy, and Watson and Sally were engaging in some quality time of their own (though not without investing in some preventative measures from the medbay first).

The TARDIS solved the Time Lord's dilemma for him in an exasperated flurry of bleeps and whistles.

"All right, all right, I'll go, I'll gooo!" He threw up his hands and backed out the door. _Mother hen._ He closed the door, turned, and stuffed his hands into his pockets, inhaling the cold London air. Maybe he could visit with Mrs. Hudson.

He entered through the backdoor of 221B, unlocked for the moment, and called, "H'llo? Anybody around?" No response. He headed for the kitchen. "Mrs. Hudson?"

The landlady was sitting at the kitchen table with a sewing basket, humming to herself. She didn't look up at his call.

The Doctor blinked in bewilderment. He moved forward and lowered himself to face her. "Mrs. Hudson?" he repeated.

Mrs. Hudson looked up, smiling when she saw who her visitor was. "Oh, Doctor, good evening." She tsked on hearing her own voice and took a wad of cotton out of each ear. "My apologies – I tend to forget I have them in after a while!"

The Doctor frowned. "Why would you..." A feminine moan from the floor above drifted down to answer his question, and he blushed, eyes wide. " _Oh_."

The landlady looked up at the ceiling with a sigh, then chuckled at the Doctor's expression. "Honestly, the way those two have been going on, you'd think they'd invented it!"

The Doctor smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, well, newlyweds..." Well, only one thing for it then. "Um, wanna get away from it for a little bit? Take a walk, maybe?"

Her eyebrows arched, giving him a quizzical look – first a dance, now a walk... If she didn't know better... The next lot of sounds from above quickly settled the matter, however. "I'll get my coat."

He gave her a pained grin and hurried to the front door, feeling an odd emotion he couldn't quite put his finger on, or maybe a mix of emotions. No matter, it would come to him soon enough...

She soon joined him in hat and coat, drawing on her gloves, eyes dancing. Well, it had been such a long time since _any_ man besides her lodgers had actually sought her company!

The Doctor opened the door and made a flourishing gesture, bowing as he did. "After you, milady."

Mrs. Hudson gave him a queenly nod in return. "Thank you, kind sir." Then her composure suddenly cracked, hand going to her mouth as a giggle slipped out. "I'm sorry!" For heaven's sake, she was acting like a schoolgirl!

He grinned, quite taken with her giggle. _Why does Watson never really write about her?—she's wonderful_. Still grinning, he offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Absolutely." She locked the door behind them, took his arm, and they descended to the pavement. "Did you have anywhere in mind?"

He shrugged. "Wayeeeelll, I was kind of thinking... Madame Tussaud's? It's nearby, and it's good fun." Almost a checklist for him, really, with most of the boxes ticked off...

She was about to say yes, then frowned as she realised: "Oh, but it'll be closed by now, won't it?"

"Oh?" he said innocently. "Will it?"

* * *

Tussaud's was indeed dark and closed when they arrived. "Well, fancy that," the Doctor said blandly.

Mrs. Hudson shook her head. "Never mind, Doctor, let's go on." A pleasant stroll in the park would do just as well.

Whistling innocently, he flashed the sonic screwdriver at the lock, which obligingly popped open. "I'm sorry, what?" he said in the same bland tone, eyes dancing.

Mrs. Hudson stared, first at the screwdriver, then the door, then the Doctor. "Doctor, you can't be serious!"

"Why not? It's not as if we mean any harm—we're just going to look around. And we'll have the place all to ourselves!"

She hesitated, greatly tempted – and really, what harm could it do? "Oh... all right!" She covered her mouth again, taken aback at her own daring. It looked as if her lodgers had had more of a bad influence on her than she'd thought.

The Doctor smiled reassuringly, pleased. "Hey, it's okay. C'mon." He opened the door, took her hand to hurry her inside, and closed the door after them. "We might not want to turn on the lights, though." He fished a torch out of his coat and turned it on, pointing the beam up at his face and grinning.

She tsked, smiling, which softened as she turned to look at the main hall, voice hushed. "I haven't been here in years..." Not since the last time with Walter...

Oh, he knew that look, only too well—the look of someone remembering a lost loved one. He waited a moment in silence before offering his arm again. "Neither have I," he said softly, then smiled. "Of course, last time I was here, it was in the twenty-eighth century." Different location altogether, actually, and _enormous_ to boot—an entire _tower_ for the planet's largest collection of waxworks.

Her eyes widened, not quite sure how to respond to that. "Is it... very different, from what you remember? I can't imagine many of these figures are still there."

"Wayell... there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" She nodded, taking his offered arm again, and they walked up to the central display. The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the splendour of the waxwork royalty at the center, Victoria's children. "Will you look at all the princesses? Good likenesses, and I didn't mean for that to rhyme. Tussaud's has always had the best in waxworks—downright creepy sometimes. You just expect them to come right to life." Not that he had ever actually known a waxwork to do that—there was a world of difference between the exquisitely-carved and painted sculptures of Tussaud's and the clunky mannequins the Nestene Consciousness liked to use.

Mrs. Hudson gave him a Look – this was hardly the moment! "Poor things..." She answered the Doctor's questioning glance: "Sacrificial virgins all..." then smiled wryly at the Prince of Wales' effigy. "Except for his Highness back there, of course. I never envied them."

"You shouldn't," he said quietly. "Never envy someone who's wealthy—still less someone who's royal..." There was a reason why the term 'gilded cage' existed...

And the Doctor sounded as if he'd met more than a few. "Are Time Lords royalty?"

He gave a small, sad smile. "Oh, no. For all practical purposes, they were _nobility_ , which is just about as bad." Ah... he needed something else to talk about, right now... oh! Shakespeare! The very thing. "Oi, well, if it isn't the Bard himself!" He moved over to the statue. "And he couldn't look less like the real thing." Only like the completely inaccurate portraits.

She followed his lead, pretending not to have noticed the 'were'. "What _was_ he like?"

"Oh, he was a genius—worked out that me and the boys were time-travelers." He still couldn't get over that; he didn't think that they had been _that_ obvious. "Good-looking, too, and I think he knew it. Quite the flirt, that one, lots of charm."

Mrs. Hudson chuckled, marvelling. "Is there anyone in here you haven't met?"

He pretended to think about it for a moment. "Ah, no, not really, no." He grinned suddenly, self-consciously. "In all seriousness, though... there are so many people I haven't met, multitudes, and they will never have their likenesses shown in Madame Tussaud's or have books written about them..." He looked down at his companion, eyes solemn and warm. "But they are just as important as any 'famous' person you care to name—maybe even more so."

She looked down at her hands, cheeks turning pink, hearing clearly what he wasn't saying. "...well... one does what one can..."

He smiled and turned to study Shakespeare again, tone brightening. "So what about you, Mrs. H.? What was your life like before your house became the most famous address in literature?"

She laughed, taken by surprise. "Much less eventful! I did have other lodgers before those two moved in, though none of them stayed very long. One was even a doctor, so I thought, well, where was the harm in taking in another?"

He chuckled. "To be fair, you weren't wrong about that one. What about family? Any kids?" _Oi, idiot! This is the Victoria Era you're in_... "Unless that's not something you talk about."

She shook her head, giving him a reassuring smile. "My daughter, Edith – married and living in Brighton now." No grandchildren yet, alas, but it was still early days.

He brightened. "Oh, that's lovely! Brighton—what a place to live, too: all that seaside holiday history!"

She nodded wistfully. "She does keep asking me to visit..." Then it finally dawned on her: she needn't worry any more about leaving either of her lodgers on their own in the flat! "Once the girls are properly settled, I might just take a few days off."

"Now there's an idea!" He stared into space, voice softening. "Visit her as much as you can; you never know..." He stopped. His own daughter, he had hardly known at all; too wrapped up in _himself_ , in his own interests and desires, to ever take the time to learn _hers_... And _her_ daughter... he had scarcely done better with her, poor Susan... The one Time Lord young and naive enough to run away with him...

His face suddenly made her want to cry... Not knowing what to say, she gently squeezed his arm with hers.

He came back to himself, exhaled unsteadily, and squeezed gently back, grateful for the comfort. "Sor—" His voice cracked. He cleared his throat and murmured, "Sorry."

She smiled up at him in silent sympathy, walking on together through the exhibit. "Do you know," she said lightly, "I've often wondered if Mr. Holmes and the doctor will ever end up in here." His sudden, wide grin was eloquent, and she exclaimed in delight. "Both of them, really?"

He nodded. "Takes a couple centuries to get them _both_ here, but yeah. Based on the Paget drawings, though." He made a face somewhere between "bleh" and amused, shrugging his shoulders.

"Well, as long as no one ever turns the house into an exhibit!" she chuckled, shaking her head. "Can you imagine?" Bullet holes in her wallpaper, a jack-knife in the mantelpiece... She still hadn't quite forgiven the doctor for publishing _those_ details in the _Strand_.

The Time Lord's grin froze, but he recovered quickly with a laugh. _If she ever finds out, it won't be from me_. "Yeah... Oo, look, it's the Queen!" He approached the waxwork in question and studied it. "Looks pretty accurate."

"...Should I ask?"

He winced. "Let's just say it was brief and complicated, with disturbingly far-reaching consequences." One would have thought that the Battle of Canary Wharf would have been the end of those consequences... Who would have thought that _James Moriarty_ , of all people, would end up the director of Torchwood in its formative years?

The poor man... "Is it always like that?" she asked softly.

He winced, remembering Rose asking the same thing, forever ago it felt like now, when they had just met... "That dangerous? Yeah, mostly." _Um, don't forget she knows her boys shared that life with you for a while. ...right_. "But it's worth it, I think—long as you have moments like this every so often..." He stopped, about to call her by her first name and realizing he still didn't know it. "...by the way, what _is_ your given name? I've always wondered."

She blinked, taken aback, stammering slightly as she answered, "It's Sarah."

His eyes widened in surprise, then he smiled softly. Of all the names from his past to circle back to him... "Sarah..." It fit her very well.

Mrs. Hudson nodded. "Sarah Louise Johnston, that was my name... before Walter..." And the Doctor's eyes, too, spoke volumes. "What was she like, your Sarah?"

 _"I can't do this anymore. Besides, I've got a much bigger adventure ahead. Time I stopped waiting for you and found a life of my own."_

"Oh, she was bold, strong... never shied down from a fight, that one... and kind." He'd never forget the time he got her out of a tight spot by making her mad—it still made him laugh, while feeling a little ache in his chest... "And then she grew up—really grew up—when I wasn't looking. Sent her off and didn't come back for her, thought I was protecting her." He gave a slight, mirthless laugh; in some ways, his fourth self had been an enormous idiot. "Maybe I was really protecting me. Sarah always came through." He refocused on the Sarah before him now and smiled again. "I think you two are probably a lot alike. You have the same—" what was the word?—"spirit. Beautiful inside and out."

Her blush returned suddenly with a vengeance, though a tiny, knowing smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "Flatterer." Heaven only knew how many times he'd done this before! _Not that you really care..._

His eyes widened as he realized how he'd been sounding. _Steady on!_ "Oi, I'm just—just telling it like it is..."

Fighting the urge to giggle at his expression, she patted his arm. "Ah, Doctor, if you were a few centuries younger..." Oh dear Lord, had she really just said that out loud?

His eyes went perfectly round—his first instinct was to protest that he wasn't flirting, and his second thought cut that one off at the knees. He _was_ flirting... and the realization didn't hurt like he might have thought it would. Time, and concern for his current Companions, had created a cushioning effect for the pain of losing Rose... and Sarah Hudson was a truly amazing woman.

He arched an eyebrow again—having got this far, he might as well go all the way. "Careful, _Sarah_ , or I might be tempted to spirit you away in the TARDIS. Actually," he mused, "I'd give a lot to see you give a Dalek what-for..." They wouldn't know what had hit them.

Her hand went to her mouth again as a laugh slipped out, both at the unusual compliment and the alien name, it sounded so _odd_. "That's very sweet... I think!"

He grinned. "Well, it's as sweet as _I_ get, anyway." On an impulse, he took her hand and kissed it.

She had been about to say something along the lines of 'Those poor girls', but his kiss put an end to that thought rather abruptly... Eyes wide, she managed breathlessly, "...you were saying?"

 _Aw, heck with it_... Grinning wider, he murmured, "You're right—forget what I said." He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips.

This time she didn't freeze, better prepared for what she'd been wanting to do since he'd danced with her, propriety be damned, it had been so long... Standing in the pool of torchlight, under the glass-eyed gaze of their captive audience, Sarah Hudson softly kissed the Doctor back, her hand coming to rest on his chest. She still hardly knew what to make of him: one moment he seemed a lost little boy, then next moment becoming a brash, uncertain youth, then just as quickly a wise but weary old man... but she longed to comfort all of them, make everything all right for him, if only for a little while...

* * *

 **Ria:** *hearts for eyes* Well, who says that kind of thing's only for the young? Anyway, given the Doctor's age, there's relatively little difference between Mrs. Hudson and any other women he's kissed, except that she has a bit more experience in relationships and life in general. I doubt very much that the Doctor really even notices the silver hair etc, he learned a long time ago that appearances mean squat. Compared to him, she's still a girl, and a bit of light-hearted romance won't hurt either of them right now.

 **Sky:** I just want to say that this was all Ria's idea and I still love it to pieces. Out of all the crossover stuff we've done in this 'verse in the past four years, this is one of my absolute favorite things: the Doctor and Mrs. Hudson.


	2. A Piece of Your Heart

**==Chapter 2==**

 **A Piece of Your Heart**

 _Love cannot be forced, love cannot be coaxed and teased. It comes out of heaven, unasked and unsought._

— Pearl S. Buck

The Doctor saw Mrs. Hudson home to her back door. "Well, my lady," he drawled, leaning against the frame as she let herself in, "I trust you had a pleasant evening?"

Mrs. Hudson nodded, smiling. "It's been lovely, Doctor, thank you." Stepping inside, she paused, suddenly reluctant to say 'good night' just yet – besides, all was quiet upstairs, the newlyweds most likely asleep. "Would you... like to come in, have a cup of tea?"

The Doctor looked extremely tempted, but then shook his head regretfully. "No, I'd better be getting back, the old girl'll be missing me." A moment's hesitation more, then he leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Good night, Sarah."

Her eyes fluttered closed at the touch of his lips, but she hadn't been Mr. Holmes's landlady all these years for nothing, and her expression was back to its usual tranquil state before he had time to pull back. "Good night, Doctor."

There was suddenly an odd look in the Doctor's eye as he stepped back, he seemed almost... nervous? Oh dear... what was it he'd told her about a Time Lord's hearing? There was nothing she could do about her heartbeat... "Right, well..." he said brightly – too brightly. "See you tomorrow, then!" And he strolled off towards the TARDIS, hands in his pockets.

She took care not to let out a sigh as she watched him go, then shut her door so he wouldn't have to do it first.

* * *

It was two days before she saw him again, Monday morning at breakfast after the snowball fight. Even if he hadn't been at the centre of a pack of boys, his face whenever he thought she wasn't looking told her everything he'd been unable to before retreating to his ship. Ah well... What was life, after all, but a series of moments, and that one had been lovely while it lasted. She knew better than to think it could have been anything more... How old was she, for heaven's sake, seventeen?

* * *

 _...now don't you understand_

 _That I'm never changing who I am?_

Mrs. Hudson caught herself humming for the hundredth time what Mrs. Watson had apologetically termed an earworm – most appropriate, the landlady hadn't been able to get the snippet out of her head since the afternoon! The girls had been excitedly preparing for some performance or other in the TARDIS this evening – kari-oki, was it? Sounded Japanese... She yawned, unable to smother it with her hands occupied in braiding her hair for bed, already in nightgown and robe. She wouldn't often have the house to herself after tonight, and she intended to make the most of it.

A sudden, hesitant tapping at the back door made her sigh – so much for an early night... but she could already guess who it was, no one else would bother to knock. Sure enough, when she opened the door, the Doctor was standing awkwardly on the step, wearing a grin that was impudent and bashful and pained all at once. He was leaving in the morning...

Wordlessly, Mrs. Hudson reached out and took the hand that was agitatedly twisting one of his coat buttons – her heart ached at how it trembled in hers – and led him to the kitchen. He followed meekly, all but curling up in the chair she found for him, while she rebuilt the fire and put the kettle on.

Tea and a few rounds of cinnamon toast seemed to cheer him up a little, and he began talking of his travels again: former companions, worlds visited, people they'd met, most of it sounding so exotic and strange that at times she wondered if the Doctor was having her on. But somehow she couldn't imagine his having energy for anything other than the absolute truth tonight, he looked so pale and tired... and yet he didn't seem able to stop talking now, words pouring out of him as if he were afraid something terrible might happen if he did.

The temptation steadily grew to stop his mouth with a kiss, just once... but taking advantage in such a moment would be completely unfair, he'd come to her tonight... for company, not... romance...

She didn't even realise she'd begun to nod off until she felt his arms around her, lifting her effortlessly and carrying her to her room. "Oh... oh Doctor, no, really, I..."

"Shhh..." The look on his face melted her, and she relaxed into his hold, her head on his shoulder. It did feel nice... and when he set her down on her bed and started to turn away, she impulsively laid her hand on his arm.

"Doctor... don't go. Please stay."

His eyes went round. "Sarah... you know I..."

"I know." It was clear he needed her right now as much as she needed him, just not in that way, and that was all right. She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Come to bed?"

He hesitated, but only for a moment. How long had it been for him, simply being _held_ for a night, with nothing more asked of him? Removing his jacket, tie and shoes, he climbed under the blankets with her, nervously lying a few inches away at first as if he might jump out again, then awkwardly edged closer and let her put her arms around him. Slowly, almost painfully so, she felt him relax into her embrace, his own arms coming to wrap around her.

"All right?" she murmured, looking up at him in concern, and he nodded – without much conviction, she noticed, but at least his eyes no longer resembled saucers. She rested her cheek against his chest, and her breath caught next instant, lifting her head to stare at him in wonder. " _Two?_ " she breathed, and this time he smiled shyly as he nodded, clearly relieved by her reaction.

"Two."

She put her head back where it had been, marvelling at the sensation, the four-beat rhythm right at the edge of her hearing. "It's amazing," she murmured – and oddly soothing, her eyes were beginning to drift closed again without so much as a by-your-leave...

She felt a gentle touch on the top of her head, his lips pressing to her hair. "Good night, Sarah," he whispered, and his arms were warm and tight around her as she fell asleep.

* * *

Although she'd half expected to find herself alone the next morning, she opened her eyes and saw him perched on the edge of the bed beside her, fully dressed again, but somehow looking as if he could have waited all day for her to wake.

Mrs. Hudson smiled at him sadly and sat up; she'd already decided not to say goodbye with the others. "Doctor." She hadn't even known him a week, and oh, she would miss him...

He stroked her cheek, smiling mistily. "Mother hen." He put his arms back around her and kissed her, murmuring huskily, "I'm sorry... It could have been wonderful."

She kissed him back warmly, running her fingers through his hair. "Doctor... my Doctor... It was."

* * *

 **Ria:** Don't worry, guys, the Doctor _is_ coming back, they'll see each other again. And if anyone's wondering about River Song... well, we already have the Time Lady aspect covered by Kathy, and now the romantic element covered by Mrs. Hudson... It looks as if Eleven will also be getting a rather different story arc in this 'verse!

 **Sky:** And a round of applause for Ria on this chapter, folks? It was all her writing, and it was lovely to watch it unfold!


End file.
